III
A WOMAN'S WORD
Those were halcyon days that followed, while Margaret lingered at Wanalah. The barriers were broken down now between these two; the vexing suspense was over and the most precious certainty that human kind can know had taken its place.
And there was not the embarrassment of others' knowing. No word of their awakened love had been spoken, or could be spoken until Margaret's return to The Oaks should impose upon her lover the duty of announcing their understanding to her father and invoking his sanction of their troth. Until that time should come they were not "engaged" and might pass their days and nights under one roof without offending even Virginian propriety. Convention had no claim to control over them in those blissful intervening days.
But the shadow of it fell on the morning of the day when Margaret was to journey homewards in company with her maid.
"I will visit Colonel Conway at The Oaks to-morrow," Boyd promised as the pair strolled through the garden during the morning hours that alone remained to them now.
"I wonder how he will receive the news—our news, Margaret?"
"How he will receive it? Why, of course he—"
"He's rather rigid, you know, in his views of propriety, and I've sinned against light in that respect. You see I addressed you in my own home, and not only so, but at a time when you were not able to run away."
Margaret laughed half below her breath.
"That was very terrible of course," she said in an amused tone. "But I see a way out of it, Boyd."